Children of Time, TARDISode 7: A Moment's Diversion
by Wholmes Productions
Summary: With the Watsons away on their honeymoon, Holmes and Beth attempt to keep each other company by touring the TARDIS... but with what consequences is anyone's guess.


_We had everything to say to each other, but no ways to say it._

— Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

It could only have been a couple of hours since they'd left Torchwood, Holmes reckoned sourly, and already he was bored rigid. The detective had made his way directly to the deserted control room after the wedding, although with what aim in mind he wasn't sure. Trying to fly the TARDIS was out of the question, of course, and he really didn't feel like talking with her, either... which left him wandering aimlessly around the central console, one hand trailing along the edge, trying to keep from falling into dismal reflection, and failing utterly. Well, at least he'd kept his promise to the ship - he hoped she was happy...

Beth had gone straight back to her room after the wedding—it wasn't as though she knew where anything was on this ship! She'd changed out of her clothes from the '80s, which she and Sally had forgotten to return to Wyndham's. Granted, they _had_ been preoccupied at the time... maybe the Doctor could sneak the clothes back later? Comfortably clad in blue jeans and a T-shirt, she'd spent some time browsing the TARDIS's apparently endless library of movies on the little TV in her room... paced for a bit... and finally decided to try to find the Doctor and beg him for a tour.

Feeling overtired and stir-crazy, she made her way back to the control room... and froze when she found Sherlock there instead of the Doctor. Why was he glaring up at the central column? Never mind, she should probably leave him to it—he didn't seem to have noticed her... But, turning to go, she banged her foot against the railing. "Zed!" she hissed softly. "Ow."

Startled from his reverie, he looked up. "Beth... forgive me, I did not hear you approach." How long had she been standing there?

She turned back to him, eyes wide. "No, no, it's okay. I was just… ah… wandering… I guess…" She started playing with a strand of hair, looking anywhere but straight at him—she was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. "'Scuse me." And she turned again to go.

He frowned, asking abruptly, "Were you looking for the Doctor?" He wasn't ungrateful for the distraction from his own musings, but their last genuine interaction _had_ been during their twin ultimatum at Torchwood. He suspected Beth was equally at a loss over how to get past what the Doctor might have called 'the elephant in the room' - the term now seemed remarkably apt.

Stopping, she looked back at him, colouring slightly, and nodded. "I was hoping I could finally get a tour..."

"I haven't seen him for some time, actually, since..." Holmes broke off hastily. "Well, since he seems to be unavailable at present..." He left the console and came down the ramp towards her. "I am aware I am something of a poor substitute, but... well, as we are both otherwise unoccupied..." It wasn't as if he had any other pressing engagements.

All right, she hadn't been expecting that. She'd have thought that, aside from Sally, she would be the last person Sherlock would volunteer to spend time with, after 1988... "If you want to..."

Seeing her uncertainty, he chided himself sternly, pulling himself together and making her a bow. "My dear, I would be pleased to accompany you..." He hesitated for a split second, then offered her his arm. "Although how successful a tour guide I shall make remains to be seen." At least this couldn't turn out any worse than their trip backstage.

Apparently, she was going to have to get used to the fact that she really didn't know Sherlock Holmes anywhere near as well as she'd once thought. She took his arm, trying desperately not to think about how nice it felt against hers. "I'm sure you'll do just fine," she said tentatively.

"Did you, er, wish to see anything in particular?" Hopefully, the TARDIS was in a more cooperative mood this time.

"Um... the library, for sure..." Well, this just felt like all kinds of awkward. "Just... anywhere, I guess." The TARDIS _was_ enormous, right? There had to be _so much_ to see.

He frowned in concentration as they navigated the corridors. "Well, the last few times I visited the library, it remained in relatively the same area." He chose a door at random, which, to his relief, did open onto the library - it seemed the ship was feeling inclined to be helpful this evening, if only for the sake of his young companion.

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment. The library was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, cavernous, palatial, extending at least four flights up from the ground floor and stretching far, far from the door in every direction. It was _amazing_. And the books...! There must have been enough books to last a person several lifetimes!

She took a slow step forward, almost feeling as though she were intruding upon hallowed ground, then another... "Oh my gosh," she breathed. "Oh my gosh..." She had wanted all her life to visit a real library! She ran to the nearest bookshelf, hesitated, then picked a hardback book up off the shelf at random and held it close. "Ohhh, you're gorgeous..."

Holmes arched an amused eyebrow, he hadn't been expecting such a passionate reaction. Still, he had to admit, such youthful enthusiasm was not without its appeal... perhaps because he knew it to be genuine. No one could ever accuse this spirited, artless child of insincerity...

She reached out and stroked the binding of another book, picked it up, and hugged both books. They felt amazing. She smiled back at Sherlock, his presence the only thing that kept her from bouncing and dancing around like a little kid. "They're real books! They're real, real books!"

His eyes widened for a moment in surprise, then he remembered. Joining her, he reached up and touched the volumes on the nearest shelf reverently. "I must confess, the libraries of the future lacked a certain... something." It seemed they agreed on one thing, at least - there really was nothing quite as satisfying as the smell and texture of printed books.

She snorted. "How about life?" She opened one of the books and flipped through it slowly, carefully. The paper rustling past her fingers was a marvelous feeling. "I mean, the only place you can really find printed books is in shops that carry old ones… Mm…" She closed the book and her eyes and rested her head against the book, perfectly happy. "I'm just going to stay here forever, okay?"

Holmes chuckled, irresistibly reminded of Watson's reaction on his first visit... He turned his head hastily away, forcing himself to speak lightly. "Well, perhaps the Doctor would be willing to part with one or two volumes - provided they've already been written, of course!" His smile returned faintly, remembering his stunt with the Time Lord's copy of _Sherlock Holmes for Dummies_ \- he hadn't suffered the slightest pang in tearing the page out of that particular book.

She made a noise dangerously close to a squeal. "That would be fantastic!" Putting the books back, she turned to wander the place… and caught sight of... a swimming pool? She blinked. It was still there. "...what?"

"I know..." Holmes sighed. "Probably better not to ask!" Who but the Doctor could fathom the mental processes of a sentient time machine?

"But… it's a swimming pool. In a library." She held up a hand. "I know, I know, it's the TARDIS… but… swimming pool. _Library_." Her gaze silently begged him to _try_ to make some sense of it—it was making her head hurt!

A shrug was the best answer he could give her. "Your guess is as good as mine - one can only hope the gravity controls for this room are in good working order!" No doubt the TARDIS could easily repair any water damage, but still...

"Mm… Well, much as I really would love to stay right here forever…" Turning fully to him, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and smiled. "Any other interesting places around here?"

His brow furrowed; despite having seen a wide variety of rooms, he had little idea of what else might interest Beth. "Well, I can personally recommend the art gallery - or perhaps the arboretum?"

She frowned at the unfamiliar word. "Arbor… what?" She tilted her head—Spanish being her high school language, she figured that _arbor_ could be similar to _árbol_... "I feel like that has something to do with trees..."

He nodded. "I believe you would call it a conservatory?"

"Ohhh." Being a country girl herself, gardens weren't quite her thing... _Alien_ gardens, on the other hand... "Stuff from other planets?"

"Indeed, and some of them surprisingly, er... vivacious." He and Watson had occasionally found little trails of fresh soil across the paths... and it couldn't be the Doctor, his current incarnation had no interest in gardening.

She grinned and held out her arm. "Sounds like fun."

* * *

The arboretum turned out to be an absolute jungle contained in a huge glasshouse, overflowing with exotic plants. Just as with the library, the arboretum seemed as if it belonged in a palace, with various paths and overhead walkways and stylised gates and trellises. There was a warning sign, however, which read 'Do Not Feed The Venusian Fly-trap.'

Beth laughed. "I feel like that sign reminds me of something... Wow. This place is incredible. The TARDIS sure doesn't skimp on her stuff..."

Holmes took a moment to translate the odd phrase. "Mm, she certainly has no need to do so." He shook his head wonderingly, still finding the sheer size of the vessel's interior beyond his ability to grasp. "I imagine one could spend an entire lifetime simply exploring, from one room to the next."

She held out her hand to brush against the shrubbery and flowers as they passed. "Ha, I bet the _Doctor_ could spend his entire lifetime exploring. The TARDIS is like..." She chewed at her lip as she tried to think of how to explain it. "I get the feeling that it's less like she's bigger on the inside, and more like she's her own self-contained universe."

Her breath caught at the sight of a set of enormous blossoms, fully as wide around as her face and iridescent black. "Oh," she breathed, "that's _gorgeous_." She reached out and stroked one of the petals—it was ridiculously velvety to the touch.

Holmes was more amused than surprised when the flower began to move, rubbing its petal against Beth's hand like a cat and making tiny trilling sounds.

Her eyes widened, a grin creeping over her face. A conscious flower, and it was _adorable_! The flower stiffened abruptly, jerked backwards with a squeak, and sprayed a small cloud of dark blue pollen. Startled, she jumped back and sneezed. "Good grief!" The flower had been _enjoying_ being petted! "What the zed?!"

Holmes tried hard to keep a straight face, but there was a slight quiver in his voice: "I believe it had the very same reaction." A flower that was allergic to humans...

Beth glared at him. "Ohhh..." She put her hands on her hips, tapping her foot. "Okay, smart boy, go find me a flower that won't react negatively if I touch it."

'Smart boy', seriously? "Just how much time do you imagine I spend in here? Alien botany isn't exactly my field of expertise, you know."

She responded with a look of pure sass, which quickly turned to a hopeful grin.

One of these days, he might work out why she was so difficult to refuse. He offered her his arm again, sighing, "Very well, then, let us see what we can discover."

She took his arm again, still smiling. "Thank you," she said meekly.

Holmes inclined his head graciously, finding her smile strangely infectious - bearing her company was turning out to be considerably less awkward than he'd expected.

Continuing on, he chose a path at random, which soon led them out of the jungle into an elegantly landscaped rose garden, in full bloom. Flower-covered trellises arched over grassy paths, the lawns and hedges all perfectly manicured; Holmes could even faintly hear the gentle splash of a fountain somewhere ahead of them.

"Oh wow," she breathed, and glanced ruefully down at her T-shirt and jeans. "I definitely didn't dress properly for this... It's lovely."

He looked her over, somewhat puzzled. "Is something wrong with your current attire?" She seemed to be decently dressed, rather more modestly than most of her peers, in fact.

She shook her head. "I just mean... standing here, I feel like I ought to be wearing a dress, that's all. Like something a girl from your time would wear."

He shrugged lightly, leading her onward. "Well, you certainly need not conform to such conventions here. Besides, I should have thought that your current garments were by far the more suitable for wandering among thorn-covered rose bushes."

She hummed in reluctant agreement, deciding to drop the issue. He was right, of course—it was a silly idea, anyway...

* * *

Half an hour later found the pair of them scrambling back out into the corridor, escaping some unexpected and disagreeable inhabitants of the arboretum. The door hissed shut, and Beth released a long sigh of relief. She hugged herself and shuddered. "Zed, I _hate_ bees. Especially the foot-long killer types..." She shuddered again—those things were zedding _terrifying_!

Holmes leant against the wall, trying to catch his breath. "Well... now we know how... the carnivorous plants are fed!" He finally looked over at Beth, eyes widening on seeing the state she was in. "Beth..." He came closer and put his hands on her shoulders, concern overriding propriety. "Beth, are you hurt? Did any of them sting you?"

She felt calmer at his touch and touched by his concern. Oh, golly, his grey eyes were so big and bright... stop that. She shook her head. "Oh, no. Zed, no. If I'd been stung, I'd be crying all over the place right now." She smiled shakily. "Got stung by several yellowjackets once as a kid—been terrified ever since."

He grimaced in sympathy, still not liking the way she was looking. "Understandable. Well, shall we call a halt to the tour for the moment? No doubt the TARDIS can provide a place for us to sit and rest." Perhaps the cocktail lounge...

She shrugged. "I guess..." Something began to tug at her mind, something that felt familiar, almost like when the Doctor had been inside her head... It must have been the TARDIS, directing her gaze. She looked over her shoulder to see a door, no different from any other in the corridor, but it seemed to literally call to her. "Let's try in there," she murmured.

He looked at her curiously, but without objection, nodding to her to lead the way.

She walked up to the door and paused, but the TARDIS continued to draw her to it. It felt like being caught in a current, although with considerably less danger, she supposed. She opened the door and gasped.

A vast crimson landscape stretched out before them, forests at the forefront and mountains in the distance. She stepped out onto it, entranced.

"My word..." Holmes murmured. He followed her in, staring around at the scene - none of the few alien worlds he'd visited had looked anything like this!

Wide-eyed, she took a few more steps into the long red grass, taking in the rugged mountains, the silver-leafed trees, the fiery sky. Of course, she recognised it—she'd recognised it almost right away. She had seen it before, in memories. "This... this is Gallifrey," she whispered.

It took him a moment to realise how she knew that - the Doctor mentioned his homeworld so rarely, and he'd certainly never described it! "I didn't think I'd ever see this..." he breathed reverently.

"Must be virtual reality," she murmured. It looked and _felt_ real, though! She'd never been in a virtual reality room that could possibly compare to this! "I wonder how far it goes?"

He arched an intrigued eyebrow. "Well, no better time to find out..."

She hummed in agreement and offered him her hand, smiling shyly. This was actually pretty fun, exploring with him...

Well, this was awkward... She clearly didn't realise that a Victorian gentleman did not hold hands with a young lady while walking - unless they were courting, of course! Not wishing to embarass her by pointing out the _faux pas_, he decided it was best to pretend he hadn't noticed, and offered her his arm again instead.

She blushed a little but took his arm, mentally kicking herself—hands were obviously a no-no for some reason... She looked away, trying to think of something to divert attention from her mistake, and was struck by the seeming solidity of the mountain range in the distance. "Huh... I wonder if you could actually _climb_ those mountains."

"Mm, perhaps..." He was simply unable even to feign any enthusiasm for the idea - Tibet had seen to that. "I'm afraid I've rather had my fill of mountaineering for one lifetime."

She grimaced—of course, he had. "Right," she said in a small voice. "Sorry... I was... just..." She trailed off, staring at the ground. Why was it that, when she messed up once, she just continued to do so? He was going to leave her now, wasn't he? And she'd tried so hard this time...

Dear Lord, he'd done it again - he seemed to have a perfect genius for saying things to discomfit her! Holmes looked at Beth helplessly, vainly wracking his brain for a way to salvage the situation. Perhaps he ought to do her a favour and simply say goodnight...

His internal debate was interrupted by the startling sensation of a light breeze on his face, stirring the grass and the leaves on the nearest trees. Then to his further astonishment, the trees started to chime softly in perfect harmony, sounding very much like someone running a finger around the rim of several wine glasses - the sound was exquisite. Whimsically, he bent to brush his fingers through the tops of the knee-high crimson grass, delighted further by the feeling of each individual blade whispering against his skin. It seemed so long since he'd last done something like this...

His lips curved upwards. It was a very real, peaceful smile, and the wonder Beth felt at the existence of a marvelous natural world within a synthetic one suddenly paled in comparison to the wonder she felt at the sight of that smile. It was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful. Oh gosh, hold it together, hold it together...

Holmes broke off one of the grass blades experimentally, mildly surprised when it didn't fade away. He straightened again, twirling the blade between his fingertips, then noticed that his fingers felt sticky. He looked down and saw that his fingertips were stained a light orange: sap from the broken blade. Looking back up at Beth, he remarked, "Well, I don't suppose it could get much more realistic!"

She smiled. "That's amazing," she murmured. "_This_ is amazing. ...I've been to the Moon once, but that practically doesn't even compare." She moved towards the trees—she wanted to explore, and she needed to distance herself from Sherlock just a bit. She needed air.

Tilting her head back, she watched the leaves stir and shimmer. They were beautiful, flashing silver and scarlet and gold. She took a deep breath, the air full of earthy but completely alien scents.

There was a strange tightening in his chest as he watched her - small wonder, though, he could clearly remember their own visit to the '69 Moon landing. Such a majestic moment that had been, Watson almost in tears, seeing Earth from space for the first time... just before their ship had been stolen... His face darkened, lips thin as the memories returned with a vengeance. If the Angels hadn't interfered, Watson and That Woman would never have been thrown together... and he wouldn't be having to stand helplessly by and watch his friend make a complete fool of himself, _again_...

After a few seconds, she realised that Sherlock was too quiet and turned back to him. She didn't need his powers of perception to work out that he was thinking about the Watsons again. "The tip you gave me about heels worked," she murmured. The one guard had still noticed the shoes in the end, but it seemed to have worked up to that point.

Beth's voice returned him abruptly to the present; grateful for the change of subject, he joined her, leaning against the nearest tree with a nod of acknowledgement. "That reminds me: how did you two come to be apprehended? Out of all of us, you appeared to have the best cover."

She smirked mirthlessly—the memory stung. "Oh yeah, absolute best... unless the guards happen to have enough psychic training to be able to see a blank piece of paper. And, stupid me, didn't even go in with a gun..." Not that she'd actually known how to acquire one, but she could have _tried_. She exhaled explosively and ran both hands through her hair in frustration.

"Now, Beth –" Holmes frowned, "you know how the Doctor feels about such things." And having weapons in Torchwood could only have made a bad situation much worse.

Beth arched an eyebrow. "Funny, I seem to remember guns kind of being the reason we all survived last time." The possessed Rob would have taken the Doctor's fob watch if Watson hadn't shot him in time. "Besides, the Doctor can get away with it—he has all that knowledge and experience, and he can come up with crazy plans that work. Not everybody's that lucky."

"Excuse _me_?!" he snorted, arching a stern eyebrow. "If we're talking about mad plans, let's not overlook your harebrained stunt in the Director's office!" Didn't she have the least idea of how badly she'd frightened h... the rest of them?

Her eyes widened in indignation. "It was a _chance_, which was more than the Doctor had before! Besides, _who_ was it holding a gun to his head next?" She'd let him take the gun because she _trusted_ him—and then had frozen in horror when he'd turned the gun on himself. The memory still left her feeling shaken and pale.

His frown deepened. "I see – so it was all right for you to take such a risk, but not for anyone else?" True, he had been starting to wonder since why it had seemed such a brilliant idea at the time, but she didn't need to know that. "Beth, don't you understand? Out of all of us in that office, to the Director's way of thinking, you were the most expendable! She wouldn't have lifted a finger to stop you from pulling that trigger, if it meant she could keep hold of the Doctor!"

"Well, then _I guess I would have pulled the trigger_!" She looked away, unable to meet his gaze after that outburst. But she would have _had_ to do it...

He stared at her, stunned by the truth in her voice.

She bit at her lip, murmuring, "I definitely wasn't... wasn't going to let them put me in stasis..."

He couldn't suppress a sudden shiver, deeply thankful that she wasn't looking at him right now. "Well, I... can certainly appreciate your reluctance..." _...alone in the dark, he would never get out..._ _**enough**__, let me be!_

She turned back to him, frowning in concern—he looked pale and drawn and positively _haunted_. "You looked like you wanted to pull the trigger," she said softly, and then kicked herself. _Why_?! She'd been doing so well up to now!

Good Lord, had she actually thought that he would? "Well, that _was_ rather the purpose of the ploy, my dear - I believe the term for it these days is 'method acting'?" He'd known perfectly well that the Director wasn't going to put _him_ at risk... well, all right, maybe he'd only been ninety-five percent certain... but what did it matter now, his bluff had worked, hadn't it? And Watson had obviously believed it would work, although it might have been more convincing if the man hadn't simply stood there...

She pressed her lips together, wishing she could believe him... She would have believed her fencing instructor, but she wasn't sure he was the same man anymore, and she didn't even know why. "Mm. ...don't do that again, okay? Please?" She smiled faintly. "lt'd be really hard to have sixty stories with the hero dead before half of them have happened."

Holmes's lips twitched, voice light but holding an ironic note. "And to whom are you referring, exactly?" He shook his head, his amusement suddenly fading. "Heroes don't exist, Beth - and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them." Why did she seem to have such difficulty understanding that? Even Watson had eventually worked it out, although that never stopped him trying to... oh, for the love of God, would his thoughts give him no peace?!

He sighed deeply, shaking his head at himself - he'd hoped that keeping the girl company might prove sufficient distraction, but it seemed that her presence was only serving to focus his mind on what he wished least to think of... He bowed to her slightly, expression apologetic. "And now I must beg you to excuse me."

What? No! No, no, no, she had to _think_, she didn't want him to go, not yet... Her roaming gaze lit upon a thick tree limb within her reach. Well, it was a bit of a crazy idea, but if it really caught his attention... She jumped up, grabbed the branch, and swung her body up, locking her legs around it and hanging upside down. Her ponytail swinging beneath her, she smiled tentatively at him. "Please don't go?" she said hopefully.

What on earth...?! For a long moment, he just stared at her, wondering bemusedly if she _had_ been stung and this was an odd side effect of the bee venom... then it dawned on him how utterly ridiculous she looked. Shoulders shaking, he made a valiant effort to contain his mirth, but finally gave it up as a lost cause and let himself laugh.

She giggled, relieved at and not a little attracted to his laugh—it lit up his entire face. Grinning, she swung up and over so that she was stretched out on top of the branch like a panther. "The look on your face..."

Holmes smiled up at her from where he leaned against the trunk. "I do believe, my dear, that you will never cease to surprise me." _...I never will get your limits..._ He straightened with a sigh, his sudden good humour vanishing again.

She stubbornly maintained her grin this time in spite of his mood change. And men said that _women_ were the moody ones... "Hmm... you know I'm _obligated_ now to come up with new ways to make you stop and look," she teased.

He looked at her uncertainly. "Yes, well..." He cleared his throat, discomfort returning in force, all he wanted now was to be alone... which didn't explain why he was still standing here. "Another time, perhaps."

Her face fell, and her heart with it. Beth didn't think she was anything particularly special, but one thing she did know about herself: she was a fighter. If she really wanted something, she fought to get it—and almost always won purely through sheer Lestrade stubbornness. And she'd never fought so hard for something, only to lose it entirely.

She'd always known that she didn't have a chance with him, romantically, of course. He was Victorian, she was Space Colonial; he was British upper class, she was American working class; he was late-thirties, she was seventeen... Not to mention the unresolved issue of his sexuality, which she couldn't even begin to guess at. Of course, she'd never had a chance in that direction—she'd told herself that over and over again to make sure she would truly believe it. She hadn't been about to let her heart break like that of some stupid Young Adult novel heroine or other, dreaming about the impossible. To be fair, _those_ heroines got what they wanted, often enough—but that was fiction and this was reality. Heroes most certainly _did_ exist, but fairy tales were much rarer.

But she _had_ thought that they could have been friends, for however long she'd be in the TARDIS. Now she was sure she'd lost her chance at that, too... if she'd ever had it to begin with.

She swung back down carefully to avoid kicking him and stood, hoping that he saw only concern and not disappointment in her expression. She did have a _little_ pride, thanks muchly. "Please don't go," she murmured.

He gave her a regretful smile, genuinely touched by her obvious disappointment. "Pray do not misunderstand me, Beth - it has truly been a privilege to have your company." He hesitated a moment longer, then surprised himself by asking, "Perhaps we might resume the tour in the near future?"

She dropped her gaze, swallowed the rising lump in her throat, and nodded. If he really wanted to, she'd be happy to... but she wasn't going to hold her breath, either. "I would like that," she said quietly.

He nodded, conscious of a strange sense of relief, and cleared his throat again awkwardly. "Then I wish you a good evening." Turning abruptly, he strode away, out of the room and down the corridor, then another, and another, turning corners at random; he didn't know where he was going, it didn't matter, he just needed to keep moving, stay ahead of his thoughts until he finally grew too tired to think...

Beth sank to the red grass and leaned against the tree trunk, chest aching fiercely. She could have cried... and not just for herself. Something was very wrong and she was helpless to stop it or even to work out what it was. Tilting her head back, she tried to focus on the music of the trees... but she was unable to shake the feeling that she was watching the world unravel.

* * *

**A/N from Ria:** *glares at Holmes* I know, I seem to be doing that a lot lately - but honestly, what a jerk! Anyone who disagrees, look at it like this: he was willing to keep Beth company right up until he realised she couldn't distract him enough, then dropped her like a hot coal. If that's not being a jerk, I don't know what is, whatever the underlying reasons. And yes, we will be exploring those issues in depth later on, but that doesn't stop me wanting to shake the sulky brat for how he's acting right now! *frustrated sigh*

**A/N from Sky:** *hugs Beth protectively* Hear hear. Still, this TARDISode _was_ fun to write. At least they had some nice moments now...

See you all finale-side!


End file.
